Cost
by Sundown-Native
Summary: Shepard has defeated the Reapers. But at what cost?  Oneshot


It was over.

Corpses decorated the flesh of this world. Everyone we loathed, and resented. Everyone we've known and loved. Everyone we had yet to meet; to discover their traits, perks, and faults.

Everyone was dead.

But it was over.

Our monuments, trophies, histories. The landscapes we cherished, and the pedestals we set them upon. They were broken down, cracked and burned. Chiseled and struck. Until it was nothing more than a pile of dust. Memories reduced to a worthless clump of dirt.

History was dead.

But it was over.

The skies had been colored a reddish brown, polluted by godlike machines, killing all that its eyes touched. The earth was scorched. Trees burned into the winds, and the fires that freed them had spread its wings, allowing all into its heavenly chaos. Whether they consented or not.

In the end, it consumed everything. Nothing was as it had once been. The world we knew as our own, the home we sought to defend, was gone.

Earth was dead.

But it was over.

There is no price we won't pay to live. Voiced, or otherwise. There is no price we won't pay to love. The experiences make us stronger.

But what happens when we pay too much? What happens when everything we've fought for perishes before our eyes?

What happens when you're forced to throw everything away?

* * *

I couldn't keep my hands from shaking. I felt cold, even with the hard suit's warmth blanketing my entire body. I clawed at the dirt, trying to keep from falling into where I was left; a large ditch, born of a misplaced shot intended for me. If it had shone its light over one part of my body, I'd have been dead, unable to tell the tale I'm about to tell. I suffered extreme difficulties with my suit. Medi-gel couldn't be dispensed. Kinetic barriers were depleted. And I could not breathe.

For the moment, I was claustrophobic, tossing the helmet I'd been wearing to the wind, the minute I found solid ground to lie upon. I found myself breaking into it, myself, once I realized I wasn't far from that hole in the ground. That grave, dug out specifically for me. Instead, hundreds of others had taken my place.

They didn't deserve this. No one did.

I had forgotten my rifle, in that hole. But I wasn't ready to fetch it. There was no immediate use for the weapon, after all; it was all over. We defeated the Reapers. It had taken two years, but damn it, we won.

No longer would I have to convince anyone that they were a threat. No longer would I have to break the rules I'd made for myself, to rally the rest of the galaxy to stop this…End.

I finished what I set out to do. By all counts, I should have been happy.

But…

Thoughts had rushed my head. I started thinking about the casualties. Then I started worrying whether anyone had still been alive. There was not a man, woman, or child within sight that was alive. Anyone that had been, I could not see; dust had plagued my eyes, obstructing my line of sight towards anything that wasn't within arm's reach. I kept silent, and stood up, pressing into the storm. I had to find someone. I couldn't have been the only one to survive.

It was getting harder to breathe. The further I got, the worse my condition became. Particles of dust began to scrape at my eyes, causing them to water. I began to rub them intensely, pressing forward to continue my search.

I had barely caught a break in the storm. A small clearing had been laid out, before me. And with it, a silhouette of a figure that had been passing by.

"HEY!" I called out, hoping that whoever it was would hear me. I had not the strength to make the trek towards it. Or at least, it was what I believed. Regardless, I pressed forward, repeating the call.

It did not answer. Thoughts began swirling around my head, providing a multitude of reasons as to why I'd been ignored. Yet all those thoughts were defeated by my own logic; the storm was especially fierce. There was no calling out to anyone, with winds of this velocity. I had to get closer.

With newfound strength, I rushed forward, quicker than I had done, before. The winds had fought me at every step, and the dust had done its best to obstruct my path. But I had made it, ultimately. The storm had passed me by, and I, it. And my newfound vision had been used to look upon the silhouette, which had now been as recognizable as ever.

Words could not describe how happy I had been, at that moment.

"Jack!" I called out. And as I did, it felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from my soul. The muscles on face acted against my wishes, causing me to smile, as I said her name. I felt as if I could anything, and I cursed myself for taking as long as I did to get through the storm. I walked towards her, feeling a fresh gust of wind press against my face.

"Where is everyone?" I asked. But was given no response. She never even looked towards me. This was to be expected, I thought. I remember her doing this – acting this way – hundreds of times over. She had been kicking at the dust, as she walked; her steel toed boots clanking against something as heavy as it was. I glanced down, out of curiosity, and found that she'd been kicking her own shotgun. It sliced through the dust with every blow, and rested against the shard of purplish blue metal. No doubt left behind from the explosion that killed the last Reaper.

I expected her to notice that I was here..But she just kept walking. Her eyes had been glazed over, and the way she kicked at the weapon seemed almost…rhythmic.

"Jack?" I called, once more time. She neared the shard, as she gazed into seemingly nothing. I felt myself stomp forward, feeling that weight slowly being placed back into me. Like the last piece of a puzzle.

"Oh, god.." Emanated through me, as I attempt to call her once more. "Jack!"

Almost as if it were in tune, Jack's foot had hit the base of shotgun, which held in place. The sudden resistance acted against her, and she had doubled over. Her legs had buckled, and her knees stuck against the broken plate, completing her fall onto floor.

As the weight within me latched back onto my soul, I shot forward, rushing to aid the woman I loved.

"**JACK**!"

I slid beside her, and held her in my arms. "No.." I said. My grip on her tightened, as I fumbled for self control. "No, no, Jack, answer me! Goddamnit, answer me!" My eyes had begun to water, and I had done nothing to stop it. All that I had been concerned with was seemingly slipping away from me. "Please, no.." I pleaded, hoping that this was all just a trick. A dream, or a prank maybe. If it were, it was in bad taste. But I could forgive it. I could forgive anything if it meant getting her back.

My head had lost the strength to hold upright, and had rested against her shoulder. Tears began streaming from my eyes. It instantly became hard for me to breathe, again. I could hear footsteps approaching me, but I had found myself without the will to find out who it was.

I forced my head back up, gazing into eyes that refused to gaze back at mine. "This..This is nothing, okay?" I assured her, even though I knew she couldn't hear me. "We'll find a cure, we'll—"

"Shepard.." A familiar, Australian-accented voice had called.

"We'll get help for you. I'll - I'll get every goddamned scientist in the galaxy…" As much as I tried, I could not finish those words.

"Shepard.." That voice called again.

"Goddamnit, don't leave me…" I cried, as I began to hug her. "Please…"

I have suffered a many great losses, in my time. From the deaths of my friends and family to my comrades on Akuze. From Kaidan Alenko's life to my own. I was hard hit. I told myself I could prevent these things from happening if I had just done things differently. If I had fought harder on Mindoir, maybe my mother and father would still be alive. Maybe everyone I knew before would still be _here_, aiding me, in this time of despair.

If I had been more alert, maybe it wouldn't have just been me and Toombs that survived, on Akuze. Maybe more of us would have lived. Maybe even _all _of us.

If I had been a few seconds faster, I could have saved _both _Kaidan and Ashley, instead of having to choose. Tali once told me "it couldn't be done" was said about a lot of things that I eventually did. So why not then? Why couldn't I at least TRY?

And if I had paid more attention to those that I claimed I loved, maybe I'd still be happy. Maybe that weight that I carried around – that guilty feeling – would have left, and never returned. Maybe it never would have surfaced.

Maybe Jack would still be here.

"Shepard." That voice called, one more time, placing a hand against my shoulders. It was then that I turned to see who it was.

Miranda stood behind me, encased in the same suit of armor as I had been in. The winds that had blown against us set strands of her hair into the distance, waving at the sun that burned down onto us.

I _wanted _her to say something. _Anything_. Anything that she could to reassure me. But when her lips had parted, all I heard was silence. Her eyes had mirrored my own.

She looked me, saddened by what she had seen, and that she couldn't say anything to help. She had broken her gaze, eyeing the pistol being magnetized onto my suit. She knew there was only one thing Jack would have wanted, if this had ever happened to her. We had no other options.

Her eyes resumed its gaze back to mine. "End it," she said, without words. "It's what she would want."

Her hand had slowly slipped from its place on my shoulders, as Miranda began to make the long journey back to the squad, who had been approaching faster than she had. She raised her hand, and shouted orders I could no longer hear. A few seconds later, they all turned and departed. It was all Miranda knew she could do.

The tears never stopped coming. Knowing how this was going to end made it even harder for me to stop them. I hugged her one last time, as long as I possibly could.

"I'm so sorry…" I whispered. "I'm so sorry."

I removed the pistol from its holster, and struggled to keep it within my grasp. My hands were shaking beyond belief, to the point that I had to use both of my hands just to keep it from falling.

"Please forgive me.." I said through sobs, as I steadied my aim. My fingers twitched away from the trigger, begging me not to pull it. When they found its grip, I slowly shut my eyes, uneager to see what I was about to do. I had begun sobbing uncontrollably.

"I'm so sorry..I'm so sorry."

Whatever willpower I had left in my body had been scrounged up, to do one last thing.

"AAAAAAH!"

…There were no words, that day.

* * *

_There is no price we won't pay to live. There is no price we won't pay to love._

I finished what I set out to do.

I defeated the reapers.

But now I realize the cost was too great…


End file.
